i just wish i wasn't foolish enough that i thought i had meant something to him. not a lot even, just something.

i truly thought that we were on a similar wavelength and we understood each other well. and while that might be slightly true, it doesn't explain anything. we got close. "call me at night when you can't sleep" MY ASS. all those calls. me venting to him, him venting to me. talking about anything and everything. sharing small parts of our everyday lives. going to that secret place (which is probably not that much of a secret, but he might think it is) joking around and talking about life.

why act like that? why act like that when you have her? and then why stop all communication suddenly? what, you got back home and now you remembered you have a girlfriend? is your relationship with her truly that horrible or only in that moment it was and you were lonely? (almost wrote lovely... there was a time when he was.)

this is why i don't open up easily. this is why i try not to give "myself" away so soon and to anyone. my walls are up high for a reason. somehow, i seem to be a tool, a quite nice, funny, sparkling tool for others' loneliness. and i'd hate to not admit it, i, of course, also benefit from things like this, as a lonely person. i get some attention, some good laughs. i guess i always end up in the same loop. somehow, i'm always getting hurt by my own feelings, because i think someone might actually like me for me and i wouldn't have to hide who i am.